The Blind Buddha Watches Over Us All
by The-Ruby-Rabbit
Summary: Info brokers are well known for playing every side, having no true allies and there is always a price for the information they sell. Then there's Janie Rook, she's got friends in the highest and lowest of places, and quite a few places in between, a moral compass that spins like a roulette wheel, and the sharpest ears in the business. Oh, and she calls Roanapur home.


**THE BLIND BUDDHA WATCHES OVER US ALL: A BLACK LAGOON FAN FICTION by The Ruby Rabbit**

Legal Speak

I don't own Black Lagoon, any copyrighted or trademarked characters, brand names, music, or any entity falling into the category mentioned above. So yeah, don't sue me. I've got nothing except my cats. And trust me, they are assholes, you don't want them, nobody wants them, that's why I have them. I guess I must like the emotional abuse they give me. See how sad I am? So yup, I have nothing, don't sue me, Senpai!

Summary

Info brokers are well known for playing every side, no true allies and there is _always_ a price for the information they sell. Then there's Janey Rook, she's got friends in the highest and lowest of places, and quite a few places in between, a moral compass that spins like a roulette wheel, and the sharpest ears in the business. Oh, and she calls Roanapur home.

Dedication

As with everything I do, this is done in the memory of my beautiful sister, Heather. The magic is diminished, and nothing shines as brightly since you've been gone.

To my husband, Erik, who has patiently listened to my babbling and laughed in all of the right places. I'm still going to write that novel, just as soon as I finish this next fanfic.

To all of the women out there who are just as, if not more, angry than Revy. We all wield our own cutlasses; just remember where to point them.

And to all of you that have read, left reviews and favorite this story on , I'll have to buy you all a drink at The Yellow Flag next time you're in Roanapur.

 **Chapter 1 Waving to the Blind Buddha**

It wasn't even a quarter past eight AM when two of the most powerful people in the criminal underworld were notified that a certain small ship was about to make port.

Janie sat in the second navigator's chair with her feet propped up on the station desktop, her lips curling into a slight grin as the massive three thousand year old Buddha monument was slipping by as they entered port.

It was good to be home, as it had nearly been a year since this trip had began. She stretched her arms above her, and then in one swift motion, swung her green fatigues- turned- shorts clad legs down, hitting the floor of the bridge with the bottom of her sneakers.

"Alright then," she announced to the bridge crew as she stood, "I'll leave you guys to it."

Janie nodded her head to the Captain as she passed by on her way off of the bridge. The Jazz Funeral was her boat in every sense of the word. She bought it, personally planned the refitting, handpicked the crew, and although it was considered bad luck among some, she renamed it.

The fifty two year old man with the short white beard (who honestly reminded Janie of the Titanic's Captain Smith the first time she saw him) standing next to the pilot at the wheel was the Captain, she was the "Boss Lady".

The Jazz Funeral was a retro fitted research ship, complete with the look of one; it was even registered with the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute. Of course, that was a cover and Ballard did owe her a favor or two.

With this cover, the Funeral (for short) could go just about anywhere in the world's waters under the guise of a science research vessel, and with all of the electronics needed for gathering the information she sold, and no one would bat an eye.

Janie made her way to her cabin, to grab the souvenir patch covered backpack she had packed earlier, and then headed to the cargo hold.

She weaved past a few strapped loads of boxes to one of her prized possessions; a tarp covered 1990 Harley Davidson Soft tail Deluxe. The bike had its own stall built into the hold, it went everywhere the Jazz Funeral went. Honestly it stuck out like a sore thumb, and she hardly got to ride it in a port aside from here and a few other places. That was the reason she spent most of yesterday tuning it up.

Pulling off the tarp and undoing the straps that held the bike in place she felt the ships engines power down and the bump of the tugs against the hull. A small zap of excitement went through her body. She only had one thing to do before heading home, and that wasn't going to take very long.

She pushed the motorcycle onto the cargo elevator platform, even though it would be a few more minutes before they were docked and the crane was maneuvered to place her on the dock.

As she rode the cargo platform over to the concrete dock, she spied three people walking toward where Janey would be putting down. One was obviously in a foul mood and hurling expletives at one of her companions, or at the universe in general. Janey was betting on the latter.

The platform sat down with a bump and she rolled her bike toward the trio approaching her. Hitting the kickstand, she outstretched her arm to shake the large black man's hand.

"Hey, Dutch!" Janie said.

"Good to see ya Janie. How are you holding up?" Dutch asked, releasing her hand.

"Glad to be home again, I've got..." but before she could finish she was cut off by Revy's loud shout.

"Yo! Foxy Jane! Where's my hello at for fuck's sake?" Revy tried to act like she was put out, but she knew it was coming.

"Just making sure where those cutlasses are at, Two Hands." Janie gave her a quick hug, knowing that she was the only person to able to give Revy "Two Hands" Lee this kind of greeting. Who could forget the bar brawl that nearly demolished the Yellow Flag the night Eda decided that they were that close?

"Hi ya, Rock, still alive I see." Janie's observation of his non corpse status had become a thing during a conversation they had after Rock had been in Roanapur for a few weeks.

"Yeah, still breathing." Rock chuckled.

"I was told you have something for us Janie."

"That I do Dutch. It should be coming out next." Janie smiled up him.

"If you guys will excuse me, I've got something to deliver, and then I'm going home." Her smile getting bigger as she thought of the air conditioned sanctuary and 4,000 count Egyptian cotton sheets awaiting her. She hadn't been outside for fifteen minutes and she already had sweat starting to form at the nape of her neck to roll down her spine.

Janie had already strapped on her hip holster holding her Berretta Hardballer and was pushing her bike past the gangway when Captain Gearing yelled out her name.

"Whatcha need Cap?" she asked popping the kickstand once again, taking this moment to pull out her black cap from her shorts back pocket and pulling it securely down on her head.

By the time Gearing had made it to her, that itch to get home had become stronger and she was close to getting antsy. "For the Harbor Master," he said handing her a clipboard and a pen.

Despite being a near lawless city, there was still some sort of bureaucracy in place in Roanapur, annoying as it was, and despite the Jazz Funeral being a ship that was crewed by people that were almost constantly breaking some law or another, Gearing liked to run a tight ship and keep a tidy log.

Janie scratched out the appropriate alias' signature and handed the clipboard with its pen back to him. "That it?"

"Yeah, that's all I needed. Have a nice homecoming." Even Gearing gave her shit about it sometimes, but considering her fingers were tapping on one of the handlebars, it was hard not to notice that she wanted to get going.

"Call me if you need me, but it better be god damn important, like somebody dead important." She pulled her sunglasses from the collar of her faded purple Hong Kong souvenir t-shirt, and putting them on, hiding her bright, grass green eyes. She mounted her bike, hit the ignition and was on her way to Hotel Moscow.

As she pulled into the circular drive of Hotel Moscow, she wasn't surprised to see Boris; Balalaika's second in command step out from the double doors to greet her. Speaking in flawless Russian she greeted him warmly.

"It's good to see you again Boris. How are you doing this morning?"

There was no hug, no handshake but a genuine smile from Boris was even better, it was this smile he gave as he looked down at Janie. There were days when she hated her five foot seven stature, it made it hard to look guys of Boris' height in the eyes.

Returning the smile, she took off her cap, and stuffed it in her shorts back pocket.

"It's good to see you again as well, Janie. I trust your trip was fruitful?" Boris started to turn to lead her into the lobby of the converted hotel.

Hotel Moscow was actually housed in a former hotel. Some crazy bastard, for reasons still speculated to this day, built it thinking it would be a four star resort for rich tourists back in the seventies. No wonder he blew his brains out on Hangman's bridge. Now it housed the most feared branch of the Russian Bratva.

"It actually was quite fruitful," Janie responded walking with Boris into the tastefully appointed lobby. "How has it been here? Quiet I hope."

"As quiet as Roanapur can be. You cut your hair." Boris stated as she ran her fingers through her short red hair.

"Yes, I had to. It gets way too hot for long hair where I was," She looked up to him as they entered the elevator. "I don't think it looks that bad."

"No, it looks fine, it was just unexpected." Boris would never say it to anyone, but he had a soft spot for Janie. She reminded him of his little sister. Janie was polite, warm, and despite her vocation, a fiercely loyal friend. He had seen her prove it over the years.

The ride up to the floor that held Balalaika's office was in comfortable silence. When the doors slid open, Boris went first to lead her down the hall to a set of teakwood double doors. He knocked and when told, entered with Janie behind him.

"Ah, Janie, welcome home," Balalaika purred in Russian. "Please have a seat."

"Thank you Sofiya. How have you been?" Janie sat in one of the arm chairs facing Balalaika's desk, and was handed a cup of tea by Boris. She thanked him.

"I've been well, thank you," the blonde said, taking a sip of her own tea, as Janie did the same. "I was told you were able to visit with some of our family on your recent travels. What did Aunt and Uncle think of your hair?" Balalaika asked with a tease in her voice.

"I cut it after visiting them. They send their love, and they sent a gift for you." Janie gently set her tea cup and it's saucer on the desk, and then reached down for her backpack. She pulled out a red box, wrapped with a gold satin ribbon, and topped with an elegantly tied bow. Standing, Janey put the box in front of Balalaika, sliding it closer across the polished wood.

"Thank you for bringing it all that way for me."Balalaika pulled one of the ribbon ends and the bow unraveled, allowing her to take the lid off, and one panel of the box to fall open.

A sparkling Faberge egg in a gold stand was reveled. The gold crosshatch held enameled midnight blue panels and each had a diamond in the center.

"Beautiful." Janie remarked.

"Yes." Balalaika lifted the egg and its golden stand from the box and placed it on the desk. With a turn of the crown atop, the sides lowered to reveal a couple dancing under a starry sky. Balalaika turned the crown the opposite way nine times and a panel toward the bottom opened to reveal a USB drive.

"Aunt and Uncle always had the best of tastes," she said, handing the drive to Boris standing just behind her chair. She leaned back and smiled at Janie.

"I have heard some disturbing rumors about the Sicilians being less than happy with you."

Janie gave an annoyed sigh, "Those fuckers can all rot in a ditch somewhere."

Balalaika took a sip of her tea, after setting cup down, "They do still have a small contingent here, Jane."

The trademark friendly look was gone and was replaced with a killer's face. "I really don't give a fuck. I'm not going to entertain any of their shit, not here."

"Let's just try to not stir that pot, shall we?" Blue eyes met green ones and an agreement was reached, all within a second.

"All I want to do is go home, crawl into bed and not come out for a few days. Not scrape pig shit off of my shoe." And with that the ever present 'girl next door' aura was back.

"Well then, I won't keep you any longer," Balalaika remained seated while Janie collected her pack and Boris moved to open the door for her.

"We have to meet for dinner soon," the Russian woman called as Janie reached the door.

"Sure," she looked over shoulder and gave a wink. "Just give me a few days."

When the elevator doors closed in front of them, Boris started the lecture. "You should not take the Sicilian threat so casually. They may have only a small number here, but all it takes is one bullet."

She sighed, "Yeah, I know, but I refuse to be afraid of a bunch of rabid dogs in my own damn home port. If they start shit, I'll finish it. Don't worry Boris, I won't pick a fight."

"I know you won't, but just remember that the Capitan sits down at the table with them. She and Chang like to keep the peace, please respect their wishes." The last he said almost as if he was asking a favor.

"I will Boris, I will," she conceded to his lecture and let it go for the rest of the way to the lobby.

Boris walked Janie to her bike and watched her ride off. He really did worry about her some days.

Janie rode the private elevator of the tallest building in Roanapur up to the penthouse floor with thoughts buzzing around her brain. She preferred to come home with a clear head so she could just fucking relax, but Balalaika bringing up the damn Sicilians, did not help at all.

 _The Sicilian mafia families, what a shit show._ She thought with a slight shake of her head. The whole damn organization had degenerated into a cesspool of diseased slime when the old guard started dying off. They used to have standards, but now it was just the worst kind of shit a human being could do. Child prostitution, snuff/torture porn and prostitution, contract killers going after whole families, and the list only got worse.

The mainland Italian mafia families cut almost all ties with them and only sat down at the table with them when it was _absolutely necessary._ Janie shook her head again to clear it. She just wanted to come home and enjoy her home coming. Was that honestly too much to ask?

The elevator doors opened onto a hallway with plush burgundy carpet and paneled walls. She walked toward the double doors each sporting a carved oriental dragon.

Her grin only got bigger as she put her key into the lock, turned it and pushed the door open. By the time she had dropped her keys into a porcelain dish on the small rosewood table, hung her hat on one of the iron wall hooks, and entered the main living area of the penthouse, it was a full smile.

The curtains over the huge picture windows were open, flooding the room with bright morning light, and there _he_ stood like the Emperor of Heaven, waiting just for her.

Janie stepped down into the sunken portion of the living room, dropping her pack on the couch, and just drank in the sight before her. He stood there, all six foot one of him, his white dress shirt pulled from the waist band of his black tailored suit pants, unbuttoned save three at the bottom. It framed his smooth, muscled chest and abs nicely. The black leather belt was missing as were his socks and shoes.

The grin he had was extremely confident, but he had no doubt what he did to her, especially after a trip this long. Janie crossed the distance that was between them and looked up into his dark grey eyes, without his trade mark shades, she could see the emotion he held there.

She let her hands trail up his chest while letting out a long contented sigh and coming to rest on his shoulders as his arms snaked around her waist. In one swift motion he had picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, bringing them eye to eye. His lips crashed into hers and they were finally able to satisfy a yearning they both had when she left town 10 months ago.

Breaking the kiss for much needed air, Janie rested her forehead against his. "Hello again, Mr. Chang." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Hello to you too, Ms. Chang," Bai Ji-Shang, the leader of the Thailand branch of the Chinese Triad, whispered back.

There was no ceremony, no friends or family, just a question, production of rings and a promise. In this world, attachments such as lovers and spouses could, and often were, exploited as weaknesses. The latter almost always seen as the biggest weakness.

It was the secret that they alone shared, although some suspected, it was never confirmed. They being lovers was a well known fact in Roanapur, and a much believed rumor for the rest of the criminal world. The rings didn't match and were very often worn on a chain around the neck. Today however, they wore them on their right ring fingers.

Janie held Bai's face in her hands, while his gripped her ass, holding her up. "I missed you, Baby."

"I missed you too," Bai reclaimed her lips as he stepped back to the large leather arm chair.

Janie broke the kiss and saw where he was going, dropping her legs from his waist, Bai sat down.

Here she was, standing before him like an angel of mercy sent to relieve his pain. He swore he had a religious experience every time he looked at her. "You cut your hair."

Janie rolled her eyes and sighed. "Yes Bai, I cut my hair. It gets hot in Dubai and it got a little uncomfortable, so I cut it. Is that a problem? If it is, I can leave and sleep on my boat."

She turned as if she was going to walk out when he reached out, grabbed her wrist and pulled her down into his lap. "Like I'd ever let you leave." The grin he wore was getting more mischievous by the second.

"Like I'd ever want to leave," she looked up at him.

"Wow, it gets kinda curly, huh?" Bai was running his hand through her hair.

"There's that talent for stating the obvious. How do you do it, Mr. Chang?" she chuckled.

"Smart ass," he growled before kissing her again.

Janie broke the kiss just long enough to shift position, straddling him. She could never get tired of the way his lips felt against hers. His tongue swiped across the seam of her lips, asking for entry which she granted. Bai's hands slid up her thighs, tracing around her waist and then under the seam of her shirt, she gasped as she felt his fingers dancing along her sides.

She ran her fingers through his hair, pushing her body against his. Bai reached the satin covered underside of her breasts, moving his hands up to take them fully in his hands, it made her move back slightly, giving him room to properly fondle her. She moaned into his mouth, making him squeeze a bit harder. Bai snaked his right hand around to her back and she gave a small whine at the loss of it. His hand found the clasp that held her bra together, his fingers making quick work of it.

Now that was out of the way, he could focus more on what the satin restrained. Moving the fabric away from his prize, his fingers found her nipples, and gently teased them. The sensation was too much for Janie, she leaned back, breaking the kiss and arching her back. He loved seeing her like this, a slight blush on her cheeks, goose bumps rising on her arms, eyes closed and gasping in pleasure.

She started to move her hips in circles against his obvious arousal driving them both insane. Bai groaned and that made Janie's eyes flutter open, gazing into his storm cloud eyes, she knew what he wanted next.

She slipped off of his lap, stood up and bit her lower lip, slowly pulling it free. It drove him nuts, that little gesture, and of course she used it whenever she needed.

Janie toed off her sneakers, and then pulled her socks off, raising each leg slowly. She may be short, but she had nice legs. Keeping her body toned and curvy was something she took some pride in, it could be difficult when a large chunk of her job was spent on her laurels chasing down leads.

Bai was enjoying the show immensely. He loved to just watch her, no matter what she was doing. Janie could be sleeping, reading, laughing, or slowly undressing, every movement fascinated him and he committed each to memory. He knew he was grinning like an idiot, but he just could not care when his Phoenix was finally there in front of him, giving him everything he could ever want.

Janie crossed her arms over her stomach, grasping the hem of her shirt, and slowly pulled the soft cloth over her head. She tossed the well loved t-shirt onto the floor, along with her bra and then went to work on her belt. After she had the buckle loose, she left it in the loops of her shorts and undid the button above the zipper. She edged it down then pulled her shorts open so he could see the green dragon tattoo that circled her waist and the purple lace that graced the top of her bikini panties.

Hooking her thumbs in the waist band of the shorts, she slid them down her smooth legs and kicked them off to join the rest of her clothes. She smiled at him and asked, "Well? Everything as you remember?"

Bai's eyes travelled up to meet hers and held her gaze as he reached out, letting his hands come to rest on either side of her waist. He pulled her closer, "I love you."

He pulled her panties down, she stepped out of them, and he pulled her down to straddle his lap. She couldn't help but smile as she ran a hand through his hair. "I love you", she whispered back.

Bai's lips ghosted hers as he said it again and again. He finally captured her lips, and their kisses became more insistent. Moans came from each of them as they opened their mouths to each other, tongues caressed and tasted. Janie's fingers traced the curves of his ears, his neck, then his chest, finally ending at the waistband of his trousers.

She made short work of the clasp and zipper and slipped a hand into his silk boxers, she wrapped lithe fingers around her prize. He hissed in pleasure at her touch, it had been far too long. "Now you've done it, you've awoken the mighty Dragon. Poor little bird," Bai teased.

Three tugging strokes and he was more than ready for her. "My little Phoenix, are you ready to burn for me?" he asked. No matter how many times they played this little game, neither ever tired of it. It was only until after a year of being lovers did she even ask why he referred to her as a "Phoenix" and to himself as a "Dragon". It was then he told her the old tale of perfect divine love.

"I'll always burn for you, my divine Dragon," she purred. The pillow talk had allowed them to maneuver into a position that had his cock free from his boxers and pushing against her moist heat. Janie slowly lowered herself onto him with a keening sound of need.

She did need him, in so many other ways than this. She needed him more than air and it scared her down to her very soul, and she refused to even entertain the idea that he would ever be gone from her life.

Bai's fingers dug into her hips as she worked up into a rhythm that had both of them panting, and moaning, working toward each other's release. She gripped his shoulders, holding his heavy lidded gaze with her own until she had to kiss him, and when they did, nothing could compare to that. He filled her, stretched her, and she gladly took everything he had to give.

Their pace increased as the spring coiled ever tighter for them both. Janie pulled away from his lips, the kiss leaving her panting for air, but too soon it was gone as she screamed his name, threw her head back and howled in absolute pleasure. The orgasm had her digging her nails into Bai's shoulders, leaving crescent moon welts. Leaning forward, she began to roll her hips again, but slower this time.

Bai slid his right hand from her hip up to her breast, squeezing just enough to make her moan and pick up her rhythm. "Oh God, Jane, you feel so good. Don't, don't stop." He began bucking a bit harder, pushing faster. That warm pressure was already building up again and Janie wasn't sure how much longer she could hold it back.

He grabbed her hips with both hands leaving his own marks on her skin as their pace began to gain momentum. "Bai, please, please, Bai," she panted out. That was all that was needed to bring them both to the edge and over, their shared orgasm left them both grasping at each other as the waves of warm pleasure slowly faded.

It was always like this when she came home, especially after a long trip like the one that just ended. They truly needed each other, and when that need built into an almost desperate want, nothing could keep them apart.

After the she stopped seeing so many stars, Janie moved into a cradled position in Bai's lap as he wrapped his arms around her. She nuzzled his neck and whispered, "I love you, Baby."

He held her tighter and whispered back, "I love you too, Babe."

The crew of the Jazz Funeral was starting to trickle out into Roanapur, those who had homes and families in town, were eager to get back home themselves, and of course there were those who had their pay burning a hole in their pockets.

Wives, husbands, girlfriends and boyfriends were kissed, children were hugged, and bartenders, stall cooks, shopkeepers, and favorite prostitutes were all greeted.

Roanapur wasn't the biggest city in Thailand, but it could take a long while for boring news to travel about and reach certain ears. And the comings and goings of the Funeral was indeed very boring news, if it was even considered news. But there were some sets of ears that could find this little tidbit very interesting.


End file.
